The way that Stiles looks at Scott as if to check up on him. And the way Scott looks back at Stiles and nods to reassure him that this is it. Then Stiles tells Scott that if he doesn’t make it back, he wants him to know that his father is in town. The only thing that Stiles had thought of before sacrificing himself was telling his best friend about his dad.

Are you guys getting this? If Stiles actually dies then the last thing he would’ve thought of is Scott.

Which is confusing, because he does remember, too. He remembers school letting out for the summer, and practicing lacrosse with Scott on the field because he wanted to play on the team for real in the fall. He remembers how Scott’s mom pitched a fit and said he was still grounded for the summer and they didn’t get to see each other much after that. He remembers the few texts he did get were about how hard it was to leave Allison alone, and how many times he had rolled his eyes even though he missed Scott terribly.

Except he doesn’t miss Scott terribly.

He feels like someone told him he should miss Scott terribly and it’s dissonant and makes his skin crawl a little when he thinks too hard about it, and it’s all because he just doesn’t remember.

He doesn’t remember that the summer started with Isaac leading them to Derek’s apartment so that they could discuss the alpha pack that had descended on Beacon Hills. He doesn’t remember the way Peter scoffed and snarled at them, telling them it was useless to even bother trying to hunt these alphas. They would get what they wanted, regardless of anything this stupid, greenhorn pack does. Stiles may have wanted to argue with him, but Peter is still terrifying and Stiles likes having skin.

He doesn’t remember the long nights spent curled up on Derek’s couch, shoulder to shoulder with Scott or Derek or Isaac as they tried to figure out where Boyd and Erica were being kept. He doesn’t remember the smell of pancakes as Derek cooked breakfast in the small kitchen because they’d fallen asleep over maps and computer screens. He doesn’t remember the brush of Derek’s fingers over his as plates traded hands, or the way Derek’s eyes brightened when Stiles mumbled thank you in a voice full of sleep.

“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in.”

AU: Stiles is done watching his loved ones get hurt. He snaps, runs right for Deucalion, and is punctured in the stomach with his claws. As Stiles gasps for breath, he tells Deucalion a little something about having plans. Hours before, he ingested high amounts wolfsbane, knowing if his blood was to be spilled, he’d take the nearest werewolf with him. And he does.

“Keep your eyes open for me, buddy. Okay?” Scott’s voice shakes as he holds Stiles’ hand tight, taking away his pain. It’s burning his skin, Stiles’ blood, but he doesn’t care. He will be there for his best friend when he’s in need. And he is in need, desperately so.